


(Art for) Kiss it Better

by rhymeswithmonth



Series: Kiss it Better [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, Derek Feels, Fanart, Hale Family Feels, M/M, Protective Derek, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 21:55:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithmonth/pseuds/rhymeswithmonth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are some drawings I've done so far relating to the fic "Kiss it Better" http://archiveofourown.org/works/660491/chapters/1204620 There will be more at some point. You can see my other Teen Wolf art on my DA page: http://rhymeswithmonth.deviantart.com/</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Art for) Kiss it Better

Stiles at age seven had been thoroughly disillusioned about the notion of healing kisses. It hadn't worked for his mama, despite his dedication to the effort, and hadn't worked since for him. But one day while playing with his new friend Derek, Stiles had fallen off his bike and skinned his elbows, knees and palms badly on the pavement. He'd manfully tried to keep from crying, because Derek was older and would surly think he was a baby if Stiles burst into tears in front of him, but a trickle of moisture had escaped and leaked down his cheek. He'd been sure that it was the end, that Derek, cool, tall, fifth grader Derek with the shiny black mountain bike and best video games would realize that Stiles was just a wimpy little loser not worth his time.

But Derek, in his seemingly infinite awesomeness, had not only stuck around but gotten down off his bike, knelt beside Stiles and grabbed up his aching hands in his own. That was when Stiles' belief in magic healing was restored because at the press of Derek's palms the burn of his cuts had dulled to a faint ache. He had rubbed up Stiles' arms, and then patted his battered knees to the same effect. As the years went by, of course he outgrew the notion that it was actually a physical process that made any hurts that Derek laid hands on disappear, but it was undeniable that the older boy helped. Whether it was by distraction or if he was just a naturally calming presence, Stiles had no idea.

Now, half sunk through the sitting room floor, somehow Derek was by his side again, hands working at the spot where his leg disappeared to break away the jagged boards and make the hole big enough to slip out of. Stiles sits back and lets him work because he's too fucking stunned to do anything but gape at his long-lost friend, apparently not so lost anymore.

 

"Yes, I do. I wanted to tell you Stiles but I do not regret that I didn't. If you weren't here I don't know what I'd do. After Laura..." He trails off, hands falling limply into his lap. His voice is agonized, "I'm sorry." It's as if the entire bulk of Derek's twenty-one year old body has collapsed in on itself, his chin ducked to his chest, legs pulled close protectively and arms limp at his sides. Stiles' mind flashes to the day of the fire, after school at the station, and two teenagers who just wanted their parents back.

"Don't you dare," he says unsteadily, "You are not allowed to say sorry." and he flops sideways so that he's halfway in Derek's lap, arms tight around his slumped shoulders.

"But Stiles-"

"No." he whispers, pressing his cheek hard against the ball of one firm shoulder. Derek gives in and leans into the embrace, his stubble rasping at the sensitive side of Stiles' neck as he inhaled deeply. They really do have a lot more to talk about, and Derek isn't getting off scot-free for leaving like he did, but for now Stiles has no desire to push any further, just holds on as securely as he can and pretend that nothing will ever separate them again.

My Laura design, as well as young Derek and Stiles, and a little Hale cousin.

 


End file.
